


The Bastard's Throne

by abapple



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Dragons, Alternate Universe - No White Walkers, Alternate Universe - Normal Seasons, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Intrigue, M/M, Mild Smut, Politics, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, Romance, Some OOC, long story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 15,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28008540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abapple/pseuds/abapple
Summary: The year is 302. It has been 19 years since Robert's Rebellion. Robert has ruled over the Seven Kingdoms in peace, leaving his Hand Jon Arryn mostly in charge. But storm clouds are brewing and everyone is in danger. Romance, violence, and intrigue sweep the world. When the dust settles, who will sit on the Iron Throne?
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen/?, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Jorah Mormont & Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Mormont/Bran Stark, Myrcella Baratheon/Theon Greyjoy, Robb Stark/?, Robert Baratheon/Cersei Lannister
Comments: 50
Kudos: 46





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Have an idea for a story that you want me to write? (Doesn't even have to be ASOIAF related). Then feel free to leave an idea in the comments below!

Welcome to my next story! This is going to be a long one.

A few things before we go on:

  * There are no dragons, white walkers or supernatural elements.

  * There will be SIGNIFICANT canon divergence, as you can tell with this story taking place in 302 and Robert still being alive.

  * This world has normal seasons, not the long ones in the books/tv show.

  * R Plus L Does Not Equal J.

  * I’ve changed some years of birth for some characters.




Below is a list of some character’s ages at the start of the story. This is not an exhaustive list of characters in this story, so if you don’t see your favorite, DON’T WORRY! They’ll show up eventually.

  * Jon Arryn: 82

  * Lysa Arryn: 35

  * Robin Arryn: 15

  * Petyr Baelish: 34

  * Gendry Waters: 18

  * Joffrey Baratheon: 16

  * Myrcella Baratheon: 15

  * Renly Baratheon: 25

  * Robert Baratheon: 40

  * Shireen Baratheon: 17

  * Stannis Baratheon: 38

  * Tommen Baratheon: 15

  * Roose Bolton: 42

  * Gregor Clegane: 37

  * Sandor Clegane: 32

  * Drogo: 35

  * Euron Greyjoy: 34

  * Theon Greyjoy: 17

  * Cersei Lannister: 37

  * Jaime Lannister: 37

  * Tyrion Lannister: 29

  * Tywin Lannister: 60

  * Jorah Mormont: 48

  * Lyanna Mormont: 14

  * Jon Snow: 19

  * Ramsay Snow: 20

  * Arya Stark: 15

  * Benjen Stark: 35

  * Bran Stark: 14

  * Catelyn Stark: 38

  * Eddard Stark: 39

  * Rickon Stark: 12

  * Robb Stark: 19

  * Sansa Stark: 16

  * Daenerys Targaryen: 18

  * Viserys Targaryen: 26




Enjoy the story!


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is a bit of short prologue. I'll hopefully get two chapters out either by Friday night or Saturday night.

Ned was walking sword in hand towards the Tower of Joy as Arthur Dayne laid on the ground, chocking to death on his own blood. As Ned made his way to the tower, he looked up. For a second, he thought he heard a loud scream.

He burst up the steps of the tower and found himself in a room covered in blood. At the center of the room was a bed, occupied by a very pale, bloody woman. She smiled softly as she saw Ned.

It was Lyanna.

“Ned.” She said as she beckoned him over.

Ned frantically made his way over to the bed, dropping his sword to the floor as he fell to his knees beside his sister. He quickly took her hands up in his.

“Lyanna.” Ned said as he looked her up and down. There was so much blood. She had no chance of surviving.

“Water! We need water!” Ned shouted before Lyanna weakly put a finger up to his lips.

“Ned. I’m...dying.” She said.

Ned shook his head.

“No. No you’re not.”

“Ned, I need you to do something for me.” Lyanna said as she unwrapped a bundle which turned out to be a bundled up baby. He was not happy to be woken. A look of shock and then horror crossed Ned’s face.

“Rhaegar?”

Lyanna shook her head and leaned in close to his ear.

“His name is…”

***

Ned made his way out of the tower carrying the baby and made his way over to Howland Reed, who was watching out for more Targaryen soldiers. He was shocked to see Ned carrying a baby. Ned began to make his way to his horse.

“A baby?” Howland asked.

Ned nodded.

“Yes, a baby.” He said. He was clearly not in the mood to talk.

“What about…”

“She’s dead.” Ned said mournfully.

“So that must be Rhaegar’s bastard. Give it here.” Howland said as he pulled out a dagger.

“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing? He’s still my sister’s baby.” Ned said, defending the baby.

“What will Robert say?” Howland said, putting away his dagger.

Ned thought for a moment.

“He’ll say, ‘Never thought you had it in you, Ned. So who is she? Big tits I imagine?” Ned said as he laughed and mounted his horse, being careful to protect the baby. Howland followed suit and mounted his horse as well.

“You’re going to tell him it’s your bastard?”

Ned took a sharp exhale before nodding.

"Well, you're going to need a name."

Ned thought for a moment.

"Jon." 

A moment later, the two men rode off, leaving Lyanna's body for now. They would come back for it later. Ned would make sure of it.


	3. Waking the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the title of the book because I hated it. :)

“Are you ready, my dear?” Illyrio Mopatis asked.

Daenerys Targaryen jumped at the sound of the man’s voice. She turned and stared at him for a moment.

Illyrio had been a kind host all these years, but there was something about him that would send shivers up her spine. She didn’t know what it was, and probably never would know, anyway. If today goes well, her whole world will change.

“Lovely sister!” Viserys spoke as he entered the room.

He walked over to an unhappy Dany and placed his hands on her shoulders. He leaned in close so they were staring into each other’s eyes with barely an inch between them. He watched her eyes for a moment before speaking.

“Something wrong my dear?” He asked, pulling back from her.

Dany averted her eyes from Viserys.

“I…”

Suddenly Viserys smacked her in the back of the head, sending her to her knees.

“Do you really think I care about the problems of the soon to be whore to all of Khal Drogo’s Khalasar.

“With all do respect, Sir…” Illyrio started.

Viserys whipped around to face him.

“Your Grace.”

Illyrio bowed as an apology.

“My apologies your Grace. I was just going to say that Khal Drogo is not one for sharing.” As he said that he looked out of the corner of his eye toward Dany, who had gotten to her feet and was rubbing the back of her head. She seemed mildly relieved, if what he was saying was actually true, that is.

“He’s coming!” A guard yelled in the distance.

“We best be going. The Khal doesn’t enjoy tardiness.” Illyrio said.

The three made their way down to the front of Illyrio’s palace and halfway down the steps just as the Khal and his entourage appeared. Drogo was riding a large brown steed, quite possibly the largest horse Dany had ever seen in her entire life.

A smile crossed Viserys’ face as he started down the steps toward the Khal, but was stopped by Illyrio.

“No, my Grace. Drogo isn’t one for pleasantries.”

“Then how will we know if he likes her?”

“We just…”

Suddenly Drogo yelled something that neither Viserys nor Dany could understand and spit on the ground. And just like that, he and his entourage rode off. A somber look crossed Illyrio’s face. Viserys turned to him.

“What did he say?”

“I’d rather not repeat it, your Grace. All I’ll say is that it wasn’t good. He rejected her.”

Viserys’ eyes went wide, just like how a child’s would when you take away their favorite toy. His face began to glow bright red. He turned and roughly grabbed Dany’s arm, and against her pleas, dragged her into the palace.

“This is all your fault! That was MY army and you went and threw it all away! You’ve woken the dragon and you must be punished!"


	4. The Cripple and the Crow

Bran Stark wheeled himself in circles around his bedroom in Winterfell. He’d been bound to the chair after he fell out of a large tree two years prior. The fall left his hips and pelvis crushed. With months and months of recovery, he was able to regain some movement with his hips and legs, but was completely unable to put much if any weight on them.

To Bran, his legs felt like a sick joke. He could move them, he could feel them, but he couldn’t use them. It was as if they were staring back at him and mocking him every waking day.

Finally he grew bored of moving around in circles and pushed himself over to a window. Down below he saw Jon, Robb and Theon sparring in the yard. Theon was constantly getting knocked on his ass, much to Bran’s amusement.

It’s not that Bran didn’t like Theon, it was just that he didn’t really feel like family. He felt like an outsider living in his families quarters. A look of dismay crossed Bran’s face. Gods, what he would give to be down there with them.

Suddenly a knock came at the door.

“Come in!” Bran said.

The door opened revealing Bran’s uncle Benjen, one of his most favorite people in the world. An immediate smile crossed Bran’s face, tossing away all the sad thought he was previously marinating in his mind.

Bran began to turn and wheel himself over to Benjen, who held up his hands.

“Whoa, whoa! I’ll go over to you. I really wouldn’t appreciate any crushed toes.” Benjen said.

After Benjen approached and kneeled down in front of Bran to get on his level. This is something that Bran loved about his uncle. Most other people just looked down on him, but Benjen made Bran feel appreciated and listened to.

“So, how’s life?” Benjen asked.

“Quiet. Dull. Boring.”

Benjen hummed for a second before speaking.

“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.” Bran smiled at his words.

“You don’t actually mean that.” Bran said.

“Sometimes I do. The things we see and do up at the Wall...it isn’t pretty, Bran.”

Bran nodded. The two remained in silence for a moment before Benjen spoke up.

“I have a surprise for you.” He said.

Bran perked up at this new information. He always loved surprises. Benjen grabbed hold of Bran and carried him out of his room and down to the stables and made his way to his horse. Bran’s face sunk.

“Uncle Benjen, I can’t ride.”

“I know. But I can, and with a few modifications I made to my saddle…”

Benjen lifted Bran up onto the horse and began to secure his legs against the saddle. A small shaped bump of leather kept Bran sitting up straight without having to use up all his strength. Bran turned to Benjen, a wild smile on his face.

“This is amazing!”

Benjen nodded his head.

“Isn’t it? And with a few more modifications and training, you might be able to start riding again yourself.”

Bran’s mouth dropped open at this information.

“Yes, I’m serious.” Benjen said as he climbed onto the horse and seated himself right behind Bran. “But for now, I think we should just go on a quiet ride. Sound good?

Bran nodded his head.

***

“He’s not going to like it, Ned.” Catelyn said as she paced back in forth in their quarters. Ned sighed.

“We don’t know that.” Ned said.

Catelyn stopped to face her husband.

“Ned, the poor boy is…”

“Crippled, I know. But you heard what the Maester said. He can have a family.”

“How is he supposed to feel like a man when he can’t walk or get down and play with his children without requiring assistance both ways? Have you seen the way the other boys mock him?”

“What are you trying to say, Cat?”

Catelyn sighed and put her hand to her forehead. A headache was beginning.

“I don’t know. I just want what is best for Bran.”

Ned got up from his seat and moved over to his wife and pulled her into a deep hug.

“I know. I do to. And maybe this is the kind of thing that he needs right now.” Ned said as the two pulled apart. “I mean, he is getting at that age…”

Catelyn playfully smacked Neds arm.

“All men think alike, don’t they.”

“Most of us, I think.” Ned said through a smile. A brief moment passed. “Besides, the deal is done. She is on her way. It’s too late to turn her back now.”

Catelyn nodded.

“When should we tell him?” She asked.

Ned sighed.

“I’ll sit down with him tomorrow after breakfast.”

***

After a long day of riding, Benjen and Bran returned just in time for dinner. Once in his chair, Bran made a straight line to Robb and Jon to tell them all about what Benjen had showed him.

“Really? He says you might ride again?” Robb said.

“Eh. Still won’t be able to beat me in a race.” Theon said as he stretched his shoulders.

Robb took the liberty of Theon’s outstretched shoulders and punched him in the gut, causing him to double over.

“Nice. One. Stark.” Theon said through a half smile half grimace.


	5. Burn Them All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't really have a set schedule for when I plan on releasing new chapters. I hope to release at at least one a day, but I'm also currently working on another story.

_Ned entered the Great Hall, sword drawn ready to fight off any aggressor. But there weren’t any. The Hall was empty, except for a number of dead soldiers. At least, he thought it was. He began to sheathe his sword when he noticed someone sitting on the Iron Throne._

_He readied his sword and slowly approached._

“ _Relax, Stark. It’s only me.” Jaime Lannister said._

_Ned relaxed his stance, but held his sword at his side. Jaime got up off of the throne and held out his arms._

“ _Just keeping it warm for the King. King Robert, that is.” Jaime said._

“ _Where’s Aerys?”_

_Jaime looked to his left._

“ _Down that hallway. Don’t worry, he’s not a threat any longer.” Jaime said._

“ _You...YOU killed him?”_

“ _I did what I had to do.” Jaime said as he descended the steps of the throne._

“ _You’re a member of the Kingsguard!”_

_A look of confusion crossed Jaimie’s face as he approached Ned. Quickly the look of confusion turned to one of anger._

“ _You don’t know what I saw.” Jaime said._

“ _We were supposed to take him prisoner! That was the plan!”_

_Jaime shook his head._

“ _Oh Stark, always the honorable one. I was planning on taking him prisoner.”_

“ _Then what in the seven hells happened?”_

_Jaime stared deep into Ned’s eyes for a moment._

“ _The man was mad.” Jaime said._

“ _We all…”_

_Jaime stepped closer to Ned, so that there were less than a few inches between them._

“ _No. No one knew just how mad he was. When the battle was lost, he started screaming about fire, about fucking wildfire, Ned! Fucking wildfire! Do you know what he did? He hid vats of it all throughout the city, ready to light at a moments notice. He ordered them to light it!” Jaime said, practically frothing at the mouth with anger. He pointed at all the dead soldiers in the hall._

“ _He started screaming ‘burn them all! Burn them all!’ I managed to put them all down before they could do anything and then turned my attention to...to...that man. He stared me down and continued to say ‘burn them all.” Jaime was seething with anger._

“ _So you killed him.” Ned said._

“ _You’re damn right I did! Once I started walking towards him he turned and ran and I plunged by sword as deep as I could through his back. Do you want to know his last words, Ned?”_

“ _Burn them all.”_

_Jaime nodded. “Burn them all. I saved this city, Ned.”_

_Ned nodded and looked down at his feet._

“ _Why were you sitting on the throne, Jaime?” Ned asked._

_Jaime shook his head._

“ _Don’t tell me you’re gonna accuse me of…” Jaime sighed and shook his head again. “I was just resting. Besides, I always wanted to know what it felt like up there. It’s like sitting on a bunch of cold, pointy metal. I don’t envy the ass that has to sit there permanently.”_

“ _You’re talking about King Robert.”_

“ _Yes. King Robert.”_

_N_ _ed stared at Jaime for a moment before turning away and heading for the exit._

“ _Where are you going?” Jaime asked._

“ _I need to find my sister.”_

_Suddenly, Jaime perked up._

“ _I can help you with that.”_

_Ned whipped around quickly._

“ _Speak.”_

“ _Rhaegar and some men escorted her to the Tower of Joy. I went with him” Jaime sai_ _d._

_Ned stared at him for a moment before turning._

“ _Wait! I’m coming with you!” Jaime said._

_He turned his head over his shoulder to face Jaime._

“ _No! You’re staying here.”_

_Ned turned back only to see Jaime standing in front of him with a wide, disorientating smile on his face._

“ _Burn them all.”_

_Jaime plunged his sword into Ned._

Ned quickly sat up in bed, covered in sweat. Catelyn quickly woke up as well.

“Ned? What’s wrong?” She asked.

Ned shook his head and wiped the sleep out of his eyes.

“Just...just a nightmare.”

“About what?”

“Nothing.”

Ned pulled the blanket down exposing his stomach. No wound. He knew there wouldn’t be one. It was just a nightmare after all, but something compelled Ned to check.

“You want to talk?” Catelyn asked.

Ned shook his head.

“No, go back to sleep. I’m going to walk around for awhile.” Ned said.

He leaned over and kissed Catelyn before climbing out of bed and dressing himself. He made his way through down into the Stark family crypt. It was ice cold this time of year, but Ned didn’t care. He made his way past rows of long dead Starks until he came upon the tomb he was looking for: Lyanna’s tomb.

He placed his hands on the tomb and let tears fall from his face.

“I’m protecting him, Lyanna. Just like I promised. But...but I just can’t…”

Ned couldn’t finish his words. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, shedding tears over his long lost sister.


	6. The Betrothed

When Bran got to breakfast that morning, he was surprised with all of his favorites laid out at his usual seat. This was unusual. It’s not like it was his name day or anything. He slowly wheeled himself to the table where his family was already seated. He looked nervously from one face to another. Rickon looked just as confused as Bran was and seemed to be complaining to his mother why Bran was getting all the good stuff.

Sansa was staring at Bran with a sly smile on her face, Robb looked as if he was about to burst into laughter at any second, Arya was busy playing with a knife while Jon was moping in his seat, staring at his food.

Then he got to his father’s face. His father looked as if he’d barely slept a wink, but he still had a small smile on his face.

“What’s going on?” Bran asked nervously. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted an answer, but the words just seemed to slip right out of his mouth.

“Your father and I have had some discussions about you lately, about how you’ve stopped hanging out with your friends.” Catelyn said.

“They kept calling me cripple.”

“Well, you are.” Arya said.

“Arya!” Catelyn said.

Ned cleared his throat and glared at Arya before turning his attention to Bran.

“Bran, we’ve been talking with Lady Mormont.”

“A...about what?” Bran asked nervously.

“You’re getting betrothed, idiot.” Arya said.

Catelyn glared at Arya but didn’t say anything.

“Wait so he’s getting married to Lady Mormont’s daughter?” Rickon asked.

Catelyn turned to Rickon.

“No, Rickon. The old Lady Mormont, the current Lady Mormont’s mother died a year ago. You remember, right?” Catelyn said.

Rickon nodded.

“From what I hear, Lyanna Mormont lives up to the name of their island. Gods, Bran, she’s going to rip you to shreds.” Sansa said.

“Sansa! Be silent!” Catelyn said.

“I’m sorry, mother. I’m just teasing.” Sansa said before turning to Bran. “It’ll be fine Bran. I’m sure of it. Mother and Father wouldn’t let it happened if it wouldn’t be.”

“You’re getting soft, Sansa.” Arya said with a smile. Sansa rolled her eyes.

“I...I’m marrying Lyanna Mormont?” Bran asked.

“Not for a while, Bran. Another year or two.” Catelyn said.

“Do I get a say in this?”

“Bran, we think this would be good for you. Besides, Lyanna’s a great girl, right Ned?”

Catelyn turned to Ned, who seemed to be staring off into space. She turned away from him and back to Bran.

“Wait, if I marry her, who’s going to take care of Bear Island?” Bran asked.

Catelyn looked away from Bran for a moment, fighting back tears, before turning back to him.

“Bran, she’ll be staying on Bear Island, and once you two are married, you’ll be staying with her.”

“I’m leaving Winterfell?” Bran asked.

“Not for a few more years.” Catelyn said. “Besides, you’ll have time to meet with Lady Mormont. She’ll be traveling down from Bear Island shortly to meet you and…”

“I don’t want to leave Winterfell. This is my home!” Bran said.

Against the protest of Catelyn, Bran wheeled himself away from the table. Catelyn rubbed her temples in frustration.

“Leave us, children.”

They begrudgingly left the table, but not before Rickon ran back and grabbed a few more pieces of bacon. Catelyn turned to Ned.

“Ned, I could’ve used you back there.” Catelyn said.

Ned snapped out of his daze and rubbed his head.

“I’m sorry, Cat.”

Catelyn put her hand on Ned’s shoulder.

“Was it the nightmare?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why it bothers me so much.” Ned said.

“Do you want to talk about it now?” She asked.

Ned shook his head.

“I’ll get over it.” He said as he leaned over and gave Catelyn a kiss.

***

Viserys had a vice grip on Dany’s upper arm, his fingers would surely leave marks.

“What the hell am I going to do now? Those...those horse people were my last shot at an army and you fucking blew it!”

Viserys stopped and turned Dany to face him. She had tears streaming down her face.

“What about that Golden Company?” Dany asked.

Viserys smacked her in the face and laughed mockingly.

“The Golden Company? How the fuck am I supposed to pay them?”

Viserys ripped down the top of Dany’s dress exposing her breasts.

“Let each and every one of them fuck you? Even if I did that I’d be lucky to get even a few hundred men.” Viserys said as he pushed Dany away. She pulled up the front of her dress to cover herself.

Viserys put his hands on his head and began to pace. A moment later, he stopped.

“Fine. If I can’t sell you for an army, I’ll sell you for as much gold as I can get.”

“Brother…” Dany started.

“Don’t call me that! I can’t believe I’m related to you. I mean, look at you! You’re a pathetic little mouse. I’m the dragon of House Targaryen!”

Illyrio stepped into the room.

“Your Grace, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but I heard shouting.”

“Just the man I was looking for!” Viserys said as he motioned for Illyrio to come over.

“How can I help you, Your Grace?”

“I want you to find the highest bidder for my sister. I don’t care who he, hell who she, just get me as much gold as you possibly can.”

“Ah! I might already have someone in mind.” Illyrio said.

“Really? Who is he?”

“I haven’t gotten his name yet, but I have heard of a wealthy westerner who just arrived here in Pentos. Rumors are he was exiled for something, I’m not quite sure what.”

“I don’t care why he’s here, all I care about his is gold.”

“Apparently he brought quite a bit along with him. Not as wealthy as someone like me, of course, but I’ll look into it.”


	7. Conspiracy

“So he’s trying to sell the whore to one of us, then.” Robert said.

“It appears so, Your Grace.” Varys said.

“And who is this man?”

“I’m still trying to get that informations.”

Robert slammed his mug down on the table.

“Gods! What do I pay you for! These people are dangerous and need to be put down and here you are ‘still looking for information’. Aren’t you supposed to be the best spymaster in the world?” Robert demanded.

“Some would say…” Varys said.

Robert took a deep breath.

“Find out who is trying to buy her, and pay him more to kill her. It’ll be that simple.” Robert said.

“I’m afraid…”

Robert was quickly loosing patience with all of them.

“Afraid of what?”

“Afraid that there is a possibly that he may find the Targaryen girl more valuable than any gold we could give him.” Varys said.

Robert stared at Varys for a moment.

“No woman in all of Westeros is worth more than gold. Not even the bloody Queen herself.” Robert said as he turned to Lord Baelish. “See to it that he gets his gold.”

Baelish begrudgingly bowed his head.

“Yes, Your Grace.” He said.

“Now all of you can fuck off.”

The men stood and bowed and made their way out of the chamber. Baelish was stopped by Tyrion.

“Just the man I was looking for..”

“Ah, Lord Tyrion. How can I be of assistance?” Baelish asked.

Tyrion looked around. The coast was clear.

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with the King.” Tyrion said.

“Ah. I think half of Westeros overheard that conversation.” Baelish said.

Tyrion grabbed hold of Petyr’s arm and led him away from the council room.

“And to think I thought intrigue was more Varys thing.” Baelish said.

“Yes, well. Some matters need...discretion.”

“I am a master of discretion.” Baelish said.

Tyrion rolled his eyes before stopping in a deserted corridor.

“Well?”

“Don’t send the gold.” Tyrion said.

Baelish looked taken aback.

“My Lord?” He asked.

“Was I not clear? Don’t send the gold.”

“You want me to disobey the King and listen to you? I’ll admit, my head would look good on a pike, but I much prefer it on my shoulders, Lord Tyrion.”

Tyrion stepped a bit closer to Baelish.

“I know the man they’re speaking of. The Westerner.” Tyrion said.

“Enlighten me.”

Tyrion once again made sure the coast is clear.

“His name is…” Tyrion looked as if every fiber of his being was fighting to keep the name inside. “His name is not important right now.”

“Come now, Lord Tyrion. Why would I help you if you won’t even let me know why I’m helping you?” Baelish said.

Tyrion sighed.

“All you need to know is that this man would never kill the Targaryen girl. It would be a waste of gold and would only embolden his position.”

“’Embolden his position?”

“He barely has a coin to his name. Just barely enough to get him to Essos. Took him years to gather it.” Tyrion said.

Baelish looked confused.

“So this rich man who isn’t a rich man has somehow convinced everyone that he is some wealthy westerner come to buy a wife, and the Targaryen girl at that. That should immediately put a target on his back.Who is the mad man?”

Tyrion stared off into the distance for a moment, trying to think of the right words.

“He’s no mad man. He’s a man with a grudge. A big one. The first time I met him I thought I’d met a ghost. That sticks with you.”

“You’re not making any sense, Lord Tyrion. Have you gotten into the King’s wine?”

Tyrion scoffed.

“No...I mean, well yes, but besides the point. The point is this man shouldn’t exist, but he does and he is determined, and as we both know, a determined man is a dangerous one.”

“Or a stupid one.”

“This one is not stupid. He aims to put the Targaryen girl on the throne, and do you know what would happens if that were to occur?”

Baelish didn’t answer. He didn’t need to; the look on his face told the tale all by itself.

“Exactly, and as you put it so astutely, I prefer my pretty little head on my shoulders.” Tyrion said.

“So he intends to put her on the throne and make himself King.”

Tyrion shook his head.

“No. Not him.”

“We should take this information to the King.” Baelish said.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why are you defending this man? You do know that if his plan comes to fruition you’re dead too, right? If we tell the King, he sends someone to kill him, end of story.”

“He might be of use to us.”

“Of use to _you_ , you mean.”

“Perhaps.”

“What’s your plan?”

Tyrion looked dumbfounded.

“Do you really think I’d tell you that. You. Of all people?”

“Point taken.”

“Just don’t send the money. I’ll make it worth your while. A Lannister always pays his debts.”

Tyrion began to turn away.

“Why did he tell you all this?” Baelish asked.

Tyrion turned back.

“I don’t know. He wanted me to know, for some reason. I could’ve turned him in right away.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t. He...I don’t know. There was just something about him. The way he spoke of his plan. At the time I thought maybe it wouldn’t go the way I thought it would. Maybe she would massacre us all.”

“But you’ve changed your mind?”

“For the moment. I have a man keeping an eye on him, trying to figure out more about his motives.”

“You do know we’re discussion treason mere feet from the King himself. What’s to stop me from walking straight to him and turning you in?” Baelish asked.

Tyrion stepped close to Baelish and looked up into his face.

“All I’m asking you to do, is wait. I know you don’t trust me and I sure as hell don’t trust you, but there is a possibility that this man’s plan may benefit us both.”

Tyrion turned to walk away.

“You are a strange little man, Lord Tyrion.”

“And I’ve never tried to be anything but.”


	8. The Black

“We need to tighten the bolt on this leg piece here.” Benjen said as he grabbed hold of the leg piece, which was attached to a saddle.

Jon handed him a tool and Benjen went to work.

“I want to talk to you about something, Uncle Benjen.”

Benjen looked up at him as he continued to work.

“You know you can tell me anything, Jon.”

Jon stood motionless and silent for a moment, deciding wether to tell Benjen the truth. He knew that anything he told Benjen would be held in confidence, but what Jon had to say would ostracize him throughout Winterfell if anyone else found out.

“I want to take the Black. I want to go the Wall with you.” Jon said.

Benjen sighed and placed the tool he was using down. He brushed his hands and turned to Jon, placing his hands on his shoulders.

“Jon, you don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Do you know what you’d be giving up? You’d be giving up your freedom. The chance to marry, the chance to sire children of your own.” Benjen said.

“I don’t want a wife or children.”

Benjen looked deep into Jon’s eyes. Jon felt as if he was staring directly into his soul. He had never felt so naked before in his entire life.

“We both know that’s not true.” Benjen said as he released his hands from Jon’s shoulders.

Jon averted his eyes from Benjen’s.

“Tell me what this is really about.”

Jon hesitated before speaking.

“It’s about someone. Someone who I have feelings for.”

A confused smile crossed Benjen’s face.

“You want to go to the Wall because you love someone?”

“It’s who she is.”

Benjen sighed.

“Just tell me, Jon. You know you can trust me with anything.” Benjen said.

“It’s Sansa.”

An ice cold breeze passed between the two as the words left Jon’s lips. It was as if the universe itself was expressing its own displeasure. Benjen remained unmoved, not saying a work, not changing his expression, just staring into Jon’s eyes.

Jon had never been more uncomfortable in his entire life. He wanted to run. To run as far away as he possibly could.

Suddenly, Benjen took a deep breath and his features soften. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t happy, but at least he wasn’t angry.

“You should talk to your father. Not about Sansa. About the Wall. Listen to what he has to say. He’s a smart man.” Benjen said.

“You’re a smart man.”

Benjen shook his head.

“Not like him.” Benjen said.

A moment passed between the two before Jon broke the silence.

“So you’re not mad? Or disgusted?”

Benjen took a deep breath.

“No, no I’m not.”

“Why?”

Benjen paused to find the right words to say. This was a dangerous moment for both of them. Benjen had to say the right thing.

“Sometimes people develop feelings for people they shouldn’t. It’s not fun, it’s not comfortable, but it happens, and eventually fades away. Someday you’ll look back on your feelings for Sansa and wonder what that was all about.”

“Is that a promise?”

Benjen paused before smiling and speaking.

“Yeah. That’s a promise. And don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

The two embraced before returning to their work on Bran’s new saddle.

***

Sansa sat with Septa Mordane and Arya working on her needlework. She was staring out a window, in her own little world, when a needle poke snapped her back into reality.

“Ow.” Sansa said.

“You’ll be fine, Lady Sansa. Keep working. You’re doing wonderful work.” Mordane said.

Arya scoffed.

“I didn’t bleeding all over your work made it ‘wonderful”.” Arya said.

“Lady Arya be quiet!” Mordane said.

Sansa glared at Arya before returning her gaze to the window. She wasn’t watching anything in particular; the workers were going about their daily routine, none of which interested Sansa any little bit. What did interest her was Jon. She wished she was staring at him through that window.

Her stomach did a flip when the image of Jon’s face popped up in her head. She knew the feelings she had for her half-brother were wrong, but she couldn’t help it. She was in love with him. She’d tried just about anything to get those feelings to stop. She tried to focus on other boys, she tried to act mean to Jon in the hopes that he would act the same way and her feelings would change.

Needless to say, none of it worked.

“I knew you were empty headed Sansa, but Gods, you look completely dead inside.” Arya said.

Mordane rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore Arya, having given up on getting her to behave. Sansa turned to Arya.

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

Sansa sighed.

“The many different ways I could kill you.” Sansa said.

Arya scoffed.

“Good luck with that. Jon’s been teaching me sword fighting.” Arya said.

A pang of jealousy shot through Sansa’s heart.

“He’s doing what?” Mordane asked.

“It’s fine. Father knows. It’s just for fun.” Arya said.

“I don’t know how you can find violence fun.” Sansa said.

Arya shook her head and returned her attention to her needlework, which wasn’t going well. Sansa could keep her needlework. Sword fighting was much more fun.


	9. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I promise they will get longer!

Bronn had thought he’d lost him when the Westerner made a sharp turn through a fruit market, but he breathed a small sigh of relief when he spotted him at a far stand looking at some apples. He carefully made his way closer to the Westerner, close enough to keep him in sight, not close enough to alert the man.

The Westerner was dressed in a large black robe, which was strange for this heat, and made him stick out like a sore thumb, but Bronn knew he had a reason for covering himself up such.

The man’s face was heavily scarred. It was hideous. He had an eye missing and his skin was so pale he looked as if he was the walking dead. Bronn couldn’t blame him for wanting to hide under that robe. He watched the Westerner as he spent an unusual amount of time surveying apples when suddenly another man approached.

The two shook hands and walked along with each other away from the apple stand. Bronn followed from a distance. They walked for some distance until they stopped in front of a brothel and made their way in. After a moment, Bronn followed after.

He found the men seated at a table about to have some drinks. Bronn found a table close enough to them that he could hear their conversation, not close enough to arise any suspicion.

“I made contact with Illyrio. Viserys is interested in speaking with you.”

“Good.” The Westerner said. His voice was rough and coarse, as if he was choking every word through sand. He took a sip of his drink.

“Do you have the money?”

The Westerner shook his head.

“Not yet, but I have a promising lead.” The Westerner said as he leaned in across the table. “I need you to go to Pentos and meet with Illyrio. I have someone to meet with here first.”

The other man nodded his head.

“Understood.” The man said as he got up from the table and left the brothel.

Bronn watched as the Westerner finished his drink and left as well. Bronn followed.


	10. The Screams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know that I said earlier that there would be no supernatural elements to this story. I've changed my mind. There will still be no dragons though. I've made this change in the process of planning out the story and discovering that this story is going to need some supernatural elements. Man, you guys have ABSOLUTELY no idea where this story is going LOL. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

_Ned was watching from a distance, hidden from sight by underbrush as his father and brother were led out to the execution grounds just outside of the city gates. He wanted nothing more than to run down and free them, but he knew that it would be a pointless pursuit. They were dead. They knew it, and he knew it._

_Neither Brandon nor Ned’s father looked scared. Once they were shackled to the execution platforms, they stood tall, not moving an inch. Rhaegar Targaryen stepped around the men until he was face to face with the two condemned._

“ _Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Brandon Stark, in the name of Aerys of the House Targaryen, Second of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm, I,_ _Rhaegar of the House Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone, sentence you both to die.” Rhaegar said. “_ _Do you have any last words?”_

_No one spoke for a moment, until:_

“ _The North_ _r_ _emembers.” Brandon said._

_R_ _haegar stepped away as four men carrying two barrels approached the condemned. They then poured on barrel of wildfire on each of them. They choked and gasped on the liquid. The four man backed away as another approached with a lit torch. Ned closed his eyes as the man threw the torch._

_T_ _he screams were inhuma_ _n. The men were screaming so loud that they tore their vocal chords and began spitting up blood as the fire engulfed them and the smoke and blood filled there lungs. Within a minute, both men were dead, burning to an unrecognizable crisp._

_Ned Stark would never forget those screams, nor would he ever forget the smell._

These are the thoughts that were going through Ned’s mind when Jon knocked on his chamber door snapping him out of the horrors that plagued his mind.

“Come in.” Ned said.

Jon stepped in and closed the door behind himself.

“Father, we need to talk.” Jon said.

Ned motioned for Jon to take a seat, which he did.

“I’ve been talking to uncle Benjen. About the Night’s Watch.”

Ned’s face remained neutral as he waited for Jon to continue.

“I want to take the Black. I want to join the Night’s Watch.”

Ned stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“Absolutely not.” Ned said as he got up from his seat.

He walked over to his desk and began to look through papers. In his mind, the conversation was offer. Jon followed.

“But father.”

“I said no, Jon. That’s it.” Ned said.

“At least let me explain why I want to take the Black.” Jon said.

Ned put his papers back down on the desk and turned to Jon, and motioned for him to start talking.

“I don’t belong here, father. I’m not like your other children.”

Ned shook his head.

“You do belong here, Jon.”

“I’ve seen the way Lady Stark looks at meet. She hates me.”

“Lady Stark doesn’t hate you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I’m the reason you’re here. If she has anyone to be mad at, it’s me.” Ned said.

“Father…”

“Listen to me, Jon. You might not have my name, but in my mind you are a Stark, and always will be. Starks belong here, in Winterfell.”

“Uncle Benjen’s a Stark and he took the Black.” Jon said.

“If you were there for the long arguments Benjen and my father had over that you wouldn’t have even tried to ask me permission. It took him months to convince father to let him take the Black, and even then he went to his grave regretting it.” Ned said.

Jon sighed and began to think over Ned’s words when a hurried knock came at the door.

“Come in.” Ned said.

Maester Luwin stepped in with a piece of paper in hand.

“A raven from King’s Landing, my Lord.” Luwin said as he handed Ned the letter before leaving.

Luwin opened the small roll of paper and began reading. His face soured.

“What is it, father?” Jon asked.

“Jon Arryn is dead. The King is riding North.” Ned said.

Another person close to Ned, someone Ned considered family, was dead. All he could here as he read the note over and over were the screams inside his head.


	11. Cersei's Worries

“I don’t understand why any of us has to go.” Cersei protested. “Offer him the job through a raven if you must.”

“Gods, woman. How many times do I have to tell you? If I’m going to ask Ned to be my Hand, I’m going to do it man to man, face to face.” Robert said.

“You could pick someone else, you know.” Cersei said.

“Like who? Your brother Tyrion?”

Cersei scoffed.

“Certainly not.” She said.

“Then who? Your father?”

“Why not him? He was Hand to Aerys II.”

“And look how that turned out.” Robert said.

“Ned Stark has been stuck up North since the end of the rebellion. He knows nothing of the world. My father does.”

“I trust Ned.”

“And not my father?”

Robert began to stare a hole through Cersei’s eyes.

“I am naming Ned Stark Hand to the King. This is final. Keep pushing and I’ll push back, and I promise I hit harder.” Robert said.

Cersei glared at Robert before turning and leaving. She made her way through the halls of the Red Keep before finding the one person she was looking for: Jaime.

“I can’t stand that man.” Cersei said as she poured herself a glass of wine.

“What? Did he try and mount you while you were standing again?” Jaime said through a laugh.

Cersei glared at Jaime as she took a gulp of her wine. Jaime sighed.

“What did he do this time?”

“He’s going to name Ned Stark Hand of the King.”

“Surprising absolutely no one.” Jaime said.

“Father should be the Hand.”

Jaime took a step toward Cersei and placed his hands on her hips.

“No. You should be Hand.”

“Mmm. You think so?” She asked.

Jaime nodded.

“You have that mind for it. Fuck Robert, you should be King AND Queen. The world would be better for it. At least you won’t be off whoring wild boar or whatever the hell that man does in his free time.”

Cersei smiled for a moment, but it faded away fast.

“You know this is dangerous, right?”

Jaime rolled his eyes.

“Jon Arryn was on to us. I know it. And with Ned Stark here…”

Jaime gently grabbed the sides of Cersei’s face.

“We took care of Jon Arryn and got rid of everything he had on us. If Ned Stark starts snooping, we’ll just do it again.” Jaime said.

“If we keep ‘taking care of them’, people are going to get suspicious, if they aren’t already.”

Jaime sighed.

“I wish you wouldn’t worry so much.”

“And I wish you’d worry more. You’re too cocky. Our children are at risk, Jaime.” Cersei said.

Jaime nodded his head.

“I know, love. I know.”


	12. Concerns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELP! I CAN'T STOP WRITING THIS STORY!
> 
> Just be advised, this chapter is kinda dark...

Tyrion was concerned. He was on the road north with Robert’s entourage and he hadn’t heard anything from Bronn in a few days. He’d begun to wonder if the man had been captured. His fears were quickly put aside, however, when during a brief stop at a pub the owner came forward with a roll of paper for Tyrion.

“This came for you a day ago, Lord Tyrion.” The man said.

 _Thank the Gods I sent Bronn our route_ , Tyrion thought to himself. As Tyrion unrolled the note, he wondered how Bronn was able to plot out their journey so well. _I guess that’s why I pay him so well_.

Tyrion quickly read through the note. There wasn’t a lot of new information. Bronn had followed the Westerner to yet another brothel in an even seedier side of Braavos, where the Westerner had spent the past few days, keeping to himself, except for when he enlisted the services of a whore, of course.

 _A man after my own heart_ , Tyrion thought to himself.

Bronn finished off the small note stating that he would continue to watch the Westerner, but would go dark on sending ravens until there was news to report. After reading the note, Tyrion quickly tore it to pieces, discarding it piece by piece on the trail after the entourage had continued their way north.

“What are you getting rid of?” Jaime asked as he rode up to his brother.

“A personal note.” Tyrion said.

“Hmm. Must be a pretty important note to be disposing of it in such away.”

Tyrion turned to his brother.

“In this world I’d rather be safe than sorry.” Tyrion said.

“So are you going to tell me what it said or not?”

Tyrion rolled his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“You can take that as a ‘fuck off’.”

Jaime laughed and rode ahead, leaving Tyrion to himself. As they continued to ride, Tyrion couldn’t take his mind off of the Westerner. He still couldn’t really understand why the man told him what he did. From what he’d heard about him, the man wasn’t exactly the friendly type.

He thought back to what he had told Baelish, about how the Westerner wasn’t a “mad man”. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to tell Baelish that. It wasn’t true. Not in the slightest. The Westerner was as crazy as they came, but for some reason Tyrion held that information back.

Maybe he was worried that if he told Baelish how crazy he was, he might use that information to his advantage. What was it that Baelish always said? “Chaos is a ladder?” Well, the Westerner was the embodiment of chaos in Tyrion’s opinion. At least, he used to be.

The man he met in a brothel a few before seemed to be a shell of the man he’d heard about in the stories, but there was still a twinkle in his eye, a hint of something lingering deep inside the man’s mind that both frightened and excited Tyrion.

As he rode along the King’s road, Tyrion began to become concerned that the Westerner was playing him. If he was, he had Tyrion dead in his sights.

***

“Oh! Oh! Oh, yes my Lord…” The woman screamed.

Viserys’ smacked her in the back of the head as he pounded into her from behind.

“Your _Grace_. I am a King, not a Lord.” Viserys said angrily.

He returned his hands to the woman’s hips and dug his nails deep into her flesh as his thrusting became more and more fierce.

“Yes your Grace. I’m sorry, your Grace.” She said.

Harder and harder. That’s all that was going through Viserys’ mind. He wasn’t fucking some whore he’ll pay a few coins to later. He was fucking that miserable pathetic cunt of a sister that had been such a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember.

He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to punish her.

“My L...your Grace. It hurts…” The woman said.

Viserys ignored her and continued thrusting, even as the woman’s moans turned to shrieks of pain. He didn’t stop until he had completely emptied himself into her, leaving her a whimpering, bloody mess. He dressed himself and tossed few coins to the sobbing woman and left, pleased with himself.

He made his way through the halls of Illyrio’s palace, not going anywhere in particular, when a servant approached him and bowed.

“Your Grace, Master Illyrio wishes to speak with you in his chambers.” He said.

Viserys muttered to himself and pushed himself past the servant and headed straight for Illyrio’s chambers.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute, Lord Mormont.” Illyrio said.

Jorah shook his head.

“Just Jorah. I’m not a Lord any longer.”

The door opened and Viserys stepped in.

“Ah your Grace, this is Jorah Mormont.” Illyrio said. “He is an associate of the man we’ve been discussing.”

Jorah bowed.

“Really? An associate? Where is he? I want to meet with him, not you.” Viserys said.

“My...boss, for lack of a better word, had some more business to attend to in Braavos, your Grace.”

“More important than meeting with the King of the Seven Kingdoms?”

Jorah took a deep breath.

“I’m sure that’s not what he meant, your Grace. But…”

Viserys shook his head.

“I don’t care what he meant, I just want to meet him and get this deal over with already. I need the gold, and he needs a whore, correct?” Viserys said.

Jorah was taken aback at the way Viserys spoke of his sister.

“Uh, yes, your Grace.” Jorah said.

“Good. As long as he has the gold, he can have her.”

Viserys walked over to a jug of wine and poured himself a deep glass before turning back to Jorah.

“What’s his name, anyway?”

“He prefers to keep that to himself.” Jorah said.

Viserys rolled his eyes as he took a sip of wine.

“Of course he does. No matter. As long as his gold is good, I don’t care what his name is.” He said. “Are we done here?”

“Yes, your Grace. He should be here within a week.”

“Hmm. I’d prefer sooner, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.” Viserys said as he finished his glass of wine in one gulp, replacing the glass on the table. He turned to the door before stopping and turning Illyrio.

“By the way, I’ll need a new toy. I think I’ve worn the old one out.” He said before leaving.

“’Toy’?” Jorah said to Illyrio after Viserys had left.

Illyrio sighed.

“That’s the third one this week.” He said.


	13. Reunion

The wind was rushing through Bran’s hair as he rode his horse through the woods as fast as he could. It was the first time he’d ridden by himself since his accident. The smile on his face was wider then it had been in years.

“Slow down Bran!” Jon said. “I can’t keep up!”

“That’s your problem!” Bran shouted back as he leapt over a large log.

Jon was happy for Bran. It was as if the boy had never missed a second on a horse. He was just as good as he was before the accident, which was considerably better than Jon himself.

Jon had an interesting relationship with horses. The first time he encountered a horse was when he was four. It kicked him square in the jaw and made him cry nonstop for almost ten minutes. The second time he encountered a horse, it tried to bite him. He started to think that he would never get along with horses.

He was wrong. He just needed to find the right horse, and he found that right horse in Ghost, his grey steed which he loved almost as much as he loved Sansa. Almost. Ghost was a strong, loyal steed who loved Jon as much as he loved him.

They were almost inseparable. Every time Jon tried to tie up Ghost for the night, Ghost would always end up trying to follow him out of the stables, much to Jon’s amusement.

“Jon! Hurry! Come quick!” Bran shouted from a head of him.

Jon’s heart began to race as he urged Ghost on faster and faster, expecting the worst, until he reached Bran.

“What’s…”

That was when Jon saw them. The King’s entourage.

The train was huge, composed of five wagons, and dozens of horses as well as dozens of armed men. At the front of the line was the King himself, sitting upon a large steed that seemed to have no trouble handling the man’s considerable weight.

“Look! It’s the King!” Bran said, pointing at the man.

Jon smiled and laughed.

“I can see that. Come on, we better head back to Winterfell and warn the others.” Jon said as he turned Ghost back towards Winterfell.

“But I want to watch.” Bran said.

“You’ll see them all at Winterfell. Come on, you wouldn’t want to make father angry, now would you?” Jon said.

Bran shrugged his shoulders and turned his horse around and followed Jon back to Winterfell. They rode as hard as they could to make sure they arrived before the King, and that they did. Jon quickly got off of his horse and started for the castle before he remembered to turn back and help Bran out of his saddle and into his chair.

“Father! The King is coming! He’s just up the road!” Bran shouted as they entered the great hall.

“Gods. The one time that man is one time…” Ned said.

Ned turned to Catelyn.

“Can you…”

Catelyn gave him a quick kiss.

“I’ll handle things in here. You get the welcoming party together. I’ll be out in no time.”

Ned smiled and kissed his wife before walking out with Jon and Bran. Within a few minutes they had most of Winterfell ready to greet the King and his entourage. Ned stood at the front with his children, except for Jon who was placed at the back, as Catelyn was afraid that the Queen would be offended to see a bastard as an equal to Ned’s legitimate children.

Arya and Sansa were all dressed up, much to Sansa’s pleasure and Arya’s total displeasure. She kept wanting to mess with her hair, but Septa Mordane was standing behind her, stopping her every time she tried something.

Soon the train of horses and wagons stopped and people began to dismount their horses and exit the carriages. The beautiful Myrcella Baratheon was one of the first out of the carriages. She quickly caught Theon’s eye.

“Would you look at the princess?” Theon said quietly to Robb.

Robb rolled his eyes. Theon was always thinking with his cock. One of these days it was going to get him in serious trouble.

“Five stags says I bed her in a fortnight.” Theon said with a sly smile on his face.

Robb’s face turned grim.

“Don’t you dare try. You’ll end up with your head on a pike.”

Theon’s attitude sobered up and he stood up straight.

“You’re probably right. What she’d want with an outcast like me anyway.”

“Wow Theon. Where the fuck did that come from?” Robb asked quietly.

Theon didn’t respond. He just continued staring ahead avoiding the princess at all costs. Robb however caught the quick glance Myrcella shot Theon’s way and the quick blush she tried to hide.

Next to dismount was the king who almost fell on his ass as he stepped out of his stirrups.

“Fucking thing.” He muttered to himself.

He brushed himself off before turning around to face Ned and his family. Everyone bowed. His heavily bearded face curved into a large smile. He quickly made his way over to Ned with his arms outstretched and pulled him into a bear hug.

“Ned! Come here!” Robert said.

“It’s good to see you, Your Grace. It’s been awhile.” Ned said as the two separated.

Robert looked Ned up and down.

“Look at you. You got fat.” Robert said.

Ned just stared at Robert, which got a huge laugh from the King. Ned smiled as Robert embraced Catelyn and then went down the line greeting each of his children and returning to Ned.

“It has been far too long.” Robert said.

A somber look crossed his face as the Queen approached.

“I need to see her.”

“Robert, we’ve only just arrived. Perhaps…”

“I need to see her. It’s been years.” Robert said stiffly.

“This way, your Grace.” Ned said as he led Robert down to the Stark family crypt.

Robert took a deep breath and paused for a moment before entering. The two then wordless made their way through the crypt until they came upon Lyanna’s tomb. Robert sighed as he approached her effigy. He ran his hand along her stoney cheek.

“Cold.” Robert said as he turned to Ned. “Do you know what I’d give just to caress her warm cheek just once more?’

Ned looked down at his feet, unable, or unwilling to meet Robert’s eyes. Robert’s face quickly went bright red.

“That bastard. If I could I’d kill him a thousand times over.”

“It’s over, your Grace. He’s dead.” Ned said.

Robert whipped around to face Ned.

“Don’t you think I know that, Ned? Of course he’s dead! Physically at least, but he’s alive in my head. He haunts my every waking hour. He took everything from me. Seven Kingdoms can’t fill the whole that son of a bitch left me with.” Robert said.

Robert took a moment to catch his breath before speaking again. Ned could tell his weight and his age was catching up to him.

“Besides, it isn’t really over. There are two left.”

“And those two are across the sea in Essos, Robert.” Ned said. It’s been almost twenty years. If they were going to do something, they’d have done it by now.”

“They are doing something.”

“What?”

“Viserys Targaryen is trying to sell that sister of his to one of us.” Robert said.

“One of us?”

“A Westerner, Ned! A Westerner!”

“Who?”

“If I knew that he’d be dead.” Robert said. “All I know is that he is wealthy and willing to pay a hefty sum for her hand. We’re in trouble Ned. Big trouble. What’s that saying of your family?”

“Winter is coming.”

“Yeah, well, war is coming too, Ned. And it’s going to be a blood bath. I can feel it.” Ned could notice that the more Robert talked the more out of breath he seemed. “Look at me Ned! I’m not fit to fight! I can barely lift my hammer, let along swing the fucking thing!”

“Calm down, Robert.” Ned said as he reached out to put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. Robert quickly waved him off.

“Calm? Calm? Ned, I don’t know how much I have left in me. And my son? Joffrey? What a piece of work that little shit is. He’ll burn the whole goddamn Seven Kingdoms to the ground.”

Robert wiped his forehead with a cloth.

“Ned, I’m asking you to be my Hand.”

“Your Grace, I…”

Robert shook his head.

“Don’t make me order you, Ned. Just accept the damn job and let’s get to work.” Robert said. “There sure is a lot of it and I’ve neglected it for far too long. Too much whoring and drinking.”

“So you’re cutting down?” Ned asked.

Robert laughed.

“Hells no, Ned. Not completely, at least. I’m still going to rely on you for all the hard work. If I stop whoring the whole economy of King’s Landing will collapse!”

The two men burst out into laughter. It was as if, at least for a moment, the mood had lightened and they had forgotten their problems. After a moment the two calmed down.

“Cersei wants me to propose a marriage between your daughter Sansa and Joffrey.”

A wave of horror passed over Ned. He’d heard stories about Joffrey and from what the King had just said about him…

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t put that on that girl. I’ll find some other poor noble girl to stick him with.” Robert said.

Ned wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but held back.

“Let’s get back to the others before the Queen eats them alive.” Robert said.

***

Inside the great hall, everyone was treating themselves to food and drink and mingling amongst themselves when Robert and Ned entered. After some formalities, they took their seats and the party continued.

Everyone was there. Everyone except Jon.

Jon was outside swinging a dull sword at a training dummy to get out all of his nervous energy. Catelyn had made it clear that Jon was banned from the festivities as he didn’t want to offend the Queen with his presence.

The more he thought about it, the harder he swung the sword.

“I believe it’s already dead.” Tyrion said as he approached Jon, drink in hand. Jon turned, lowered his sword and offered a slight bow to Tyrion.

“Lord Tyrion.” Jon said.

Tyrion waved his hand.

“Let’s forget the formalities. You’re the bastard right? Ned Stark’s bastard?”

Jon took a deep breath and nodded his head. It seems like whenever people meet him for the first time, that is always the first thing to come up.

“Yes, my Lord.”

Tyrion shook his head and clicked his tongue.

“What did I say about formalities?”

“You said to forget them, Tyrion.” Jon said.

Tyrion smiled.

“That’s better.”

Tyrion took a sip from his drink.

“So why are you out here and not in there?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Tyrion held up a finger.

“Ah! But I asked you first.” Tyrion said.

“Lady Stark was concerned my presence might offend the Queen.”

Tyrion scoffed.

“My presence offends the Queen and I’m allowed in there.”

“What are you doing out here, anyway? I’m sure you didn’t come out here just to talk to me.” Jon said.

Tyrion shook his head.

“I needed some fresh air and some distance from my relatives.” Tyrion said. “They can be suffocating at the best of times.”

Jon nodded his head.

“Sometimes I need to get away too.”

“Don’t feel like you belong?”

“Yeah. All the time.”

“Me too.” Tyrion said as he took another drink.

“You? But you’re a Lord.”

“But I’m a dwarf first. Always a dwarf first.” Tyrion said. “We have a lot in common, you and I, bastard.”

Tyrion took one final swig of his wine. Empty.

“Well, I’m off to top this off. It was nice talking with you, bastard.”

“Jon. My name is Jon.”

Tyrion nodded.

“My apologies, Jon. It was nice talking to you.”

Jon bowed slightly as Tyrion let. Jon continued to stand rooted where he was when he spoke with Tyrion, running the man’s words over and over in his head when he was interrupted by a sweat voice.

“Good evening, Jon.” Sansa said from behind him.

Jon immediately felt his whole body relax. He dropped his sword to the ground and slowly turned to her. She had a small plate of food and a glass of fine.

“I thought you’d might be hungry.” She said, offering Jon a small smile.

The two made they’re way over to a table near the weapon stands. Sansa sat opposite Jon.

“Aren’t you cold, Sansa?” Jon asked.

Sansa shook her head.

“I’m fine. You?”

Jon nodded.

“Yeah. Fine.”

Jon smiled as the two began to share the food.


	14. The Tunnels

Bronn spent the better part of the day trudging through mud and human shit that composed the canals of Braavos, following the spiraling trail of the Westerner. Bronn was frustrated at the conditions and swore that Tyrion would end up paying him a bonus for putting up with all this shit, but at least it seemed as if the Westerner was finally doing something worth reporting. Bronn was getting tired of watching and waiting. That wasn’t exactly his style.

The Westerner didn’t seemed to be bothered by the shit, though. He just kept on walking as if he was walking through a bed of flowers. Strange fellow.

Finally the Westerner stopped in front of a gated entrance to a tunnel. Bronn pulled himself back up against a wall as the Westerner looked around. Coast was clear. He opened the gate and entered. Bronn waited a few seconds before following.

The tunnel was dark. Bronn could barely see even a foot in front of him, so he relied more on his ears for navigation. The Westerner seemed to know the tunnel pretty well; he was making good time, better time than Bronn was.

“Shit.” Bronn muttered to himself as he stepped on a rat. “Fucking things.”

A few moments later, the Westerner’s footsteps went silent. Bronn stopped dead in his tracks and pulled himself up against the side of the tunnel, which was soaking wet. The continued dripping of unimaginable liquids down Bronn’s back made him want to go crazy, but he had a job to do.

He stood there, unmoving, waiting for the Westerner to do something, anything.

Then, it happened.

“Ah, there you are.” A voice said. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. This place is a fucking maze.” A man said.

Bronn heard someone brush their clothes off, not doubt which was covered in mud and shit, much like his own.

“Lord Baelish saids his regards.” The man said.

Bronn took a deep breath. _Lord Baelish_. Tyrion was not going to like this.

“So. Do you have the gold?” The Westerner asked.

The man scoffed.

“Do I look like I have the gold? There was no way in hell I was going to carry that much loot this far. It’s back at the place I’m staying at.”

“You idiot!” The Westerner said.

“Whoa, whoa. Don’t worry about it. It’s secure. I have some guys guarding it. They’re trust worthy. They work for Lord Baelish too.”

“How do I know you’re not going to stab me in the back the second I turn around?” The Westerner said.

“Lord Baelish is interested in your plan, and he wants you to remember him when you succeed.”

“How does he know that he’ll survive my plan?”

“He doesn’t, but he’s a gambling man, and he thinks you’re the best horse in the field.” The man said.

“Flattering.” The Westerner said mockingly.

“So can we get going or do you want to stay here and smell the shit roses?” The man asked.

Bronn heard two pairs of footsteps head down the tunnel away from him. Bronn slowly followed after them.


	15. Fatherhood

Night had finally fallen on the city of Pentos and Dany found herself making her way to her favorite spot in the entirety of the city: the roof of Illyrio’s palace. There was a small nook in the corner of the roof that she absolutely loved. Once she was there, no one could see her, but she could see the whole city. She found herself spending entire nights up there just watching the late night activity of the city or staring up at the stars, wondering about all the what-ifs life had to offer.

But this night was different. This night, Dany was despondent. Her brother was getting more violent with her and she was seemingly days away from being married off to some strange Westerner who no one seemed to know. It seemed as if her young life was over as she knew it.

She burst into tears and crumbled down into a ball, letting out all of her emotions. In front of her brother she did her best to keep her emotions hidden, hoping that he would think that she was stronger than she was, but here, in the safety of her own little corner of the world, she was free to be her scared, vulnerable self.

“My Lady?” Jorah gently called out.

Dany froze up. She quickly rubbed the tears out of her eyes and hurriedly attempted to gather her composure before standing up and revealing herself to Jorah.

“Yes, Lord Mormont?”

Jorah waved his hand.

“It’s not…”

Dany smiled and nodded.

“Right. Just Jorah.” She said.

“Are you okay, my Lady?” Jorah asked.

Dany sniffled and wiped a tear out of her eye.

“I’m fine. And you can call me Dany. Just not in front of my brother.” She said.

Dany took a small step toward Jorah.

“So what are you doing in this part of the world?” She asked.

“Well, working for someone, for one. Didn’t have much of a choice. I was exiled for slaving.”

“Slaving? That’s barbaric.” Dany said.

Jorah look down at his feet, ashamed.

“I know that now, but in the moment it seemed like the right thing to do. They were thieves. They atoll from me and my wife.”

“You have a wife? Where is she now?” Dany asked.

Jorah sighed.

“Probably keeping another man’s bed warm.”

Dany immediately regretted asking the question.

“I’m sorry, my Lady. I shouldn’t be so frank.” Jorah said.

“No, no. It’s fine.” Dany said.

An awkward moment passed between the two.

“It’s only a matter of time before my boss comes down with the gold.”

Dany looked at her feet.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.” Jorah said.

“What’s he like?”

Jorah sighed.

“To be honest, I don’t know much about him. I don’t even know his name. I haven’t been working for him for long. I wish I could tell you more.” Jorah said.

Dany watched Jorah’s face as he thought about something. It was as if he was desperate to say something. Finally, he did.

“I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but you remind me of my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Dany asked.

Jorah nodded.

“Yeah. She was a lot like you. Sweet, soft spoken.”

“What happened to her?”

“Disease took her from us five years ago.” Jorah said mournfully.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Dany said as she moved towards Jorah and enveloped him in a soft hug.

“It’s difficult, but each day it gets just a little bit better.” Jorah said.

The two pulled apart.

“I better get going. If my brother finds me out this late…”

“Of course.” Jorah said. “If you ever need to talk, I’ll be here until...until this whole thing is settled.”

Dany nodded and moved passed Jorah for the stairs, leaving Jorah alone to stare up at the stars, wondering about all the what-ifs life had to offer.


	16. The Trident

_Ned Stark dismounted his horse on a hill overlooking the Trident, which was about a quarter mile away. In front of him were about 60,000 Royalist troops approaching the Trident at a quick pace. Behind him, Ned commanded about 15,000 Northerners, alongside Robert Baratheon’s 15,000 troops, and 10,000 men commanded by Jon Arryn and Hoster Tully._

“ _What do you think, Ned?” Robert asked him, as he placed his stag helm on._

_Ned took a deep breath._

“ _If they cross the Trident, the war is over.” Ned said as he turned to Robert. “We need to move. Now.”_

_Robert nodded his head and stared out over what would soon be one of the most historic battlefields in Westerosi history. This was it. If they lost this battle, the rebellion was lost. They had no choice. Robert looked to his left and to his right, wondering who amongst them would survive the battle and whose broken bodies he would see lying on the battlefield._

_The acidic taste of vomit peeked at the back of his throat, but he held it down. With one more deep breath, Robert called out:_

“ _This is it! This is where we end this war once and for all! Are you ready?”_

_The men roared._

“ _I said: are you ready?” Robert bellowed._

_The men roared again as Robert raised his hammer into the air. Ned readied his sword._

“ _Northerners! Winter has come for House Targaryen!” Ned shouted._

_The men roared and banged on their shields. They were ready. This was it._

“ _CHARGE!” Robert roared as he charged down the hill, his men following close behind, roaring like a large unruly pride of lions._

_The Royalist army was knee deep in the Trident, moving slowly through the thick mud and rushing water. They were moving slowly and tiring quickly, giving the well rested rebels a huge advantage._

_The Royalists seemed to be sitting ducks._

_Rhaegar saw the charging army ahead of him and made the foolish decision to hold his ground instead of rushing his troops out of the water. Had he moved quickly, he could’ve diminished the rebel’s advantage, but his past victories had made him cocky, and that, combined with his larger army, made Rhaegar feel invincible._

_That would be his downfall._

_When the two armies clashed is sounded as if the world itself was tearing itself apart. Armor clashed against armor, swords against swords, bodies against bodies. It was deafening. Everywhere you looked, people were being slashed to pieces, some even cleaved in two. Some men on both sides attempted to make a run for it, only to get trampled by the fighting troops. They either drowned in the river or in their own blood._

_Ned himself was slashing through Royalist troops like his sword was a hot knife through butter. He was coated in mud and blood, but could already feel himself being weighed down by the water soaking his armor and clothes._

_Robert was in much the same way, although his condition was worsening faster than Ned’s. Robert was a much larger man that Ned, so the weight of his soaked gear was pulling him down into the water harder than Ned’s. That’s when he made the decision to shed his chest plate and leg guards, leaving only his helmet and arm guards on._

_This was a dangerous move. He was very exposed, but at the same time, he was one of the most fierce fighters on the battlefield. Three men saw that he was exposed and charged at him, only to be cut down one by one with crushing blows from Robert’s war hammer._

_The amount of death on both sides was staggering, but soon the Royalists began to gain the upper hand and started to push Robert’s troops back out of the river and onto the land._

“ _We have this men!” Rhaegar shouted as he held up his gleaming sword. “Keep pushing! Keep pushing!”_

_The Royalist troops rallied hard against the Rebels, pushing and pushing, slashing and stabbing their way out of the river and onto dry land. Now the battle was on even grounds and the rebels were losing troops fast._

“ _This isn’t working!” Ned called out to Robert. “We need a new strategy!”_

_Robert swung his war hammer and obliterated a man’s face before taking a step back and analyzing the battlefield. Ned was right. Things needed to change. Fast._

_That’s when he spotted him. Rhaegar was fighting alongside two men a few feet from the rest of his army. This was his chance. If he could kill Rhaegar…_

_Robert looked to Ned before turning and rushing toward Rhaegar._

“ _Robert! What are you doing!” Ned said as she slashed a Royalist and ran after Robert._

_Ned was just a few feet behind Robert when he stumbled and hit his head hard on the ground, leaving him dazed. He looked up in time to see Robert obliterated one of the men’s knees and almost cleve his head off with the hammer._

_The other man vomited at the sight and ran, leaving Rhaegar alone with Robert. The two circled around each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Rhaegar struck first, slashing Robert’s arm, leaving a long, warm trail of blood to drip down his arm._

_This didn’t hurt Robert so much as anger him even more. Robert swung his hammer three times, missing with each blow, but throwing Rhaegar off his balance. Rhaegar fell to the ground and dropped his sword._

_He reached for it, but it was too late. Robert stood over him, held his hammer over his head and brought it down right on Rhaegar’s chest, crushing the breast plate and sending shards of broken metal into his chest, puncturing his lungs and almost every other vital organ._

_Rhaegar’s eyes bugged out of his head, looking like they could pop out at any second. A wet, sickening sucking sound came from his chest every time he took a breath. Blood began to pour from his mouth and nose._

_He died staring into Robert’s eyes as he choked to death on his own blood._

_With Rhaegar dead, the Royalist troops quickly either surrendered or turned and ran. The battle was over. Robert had won._

_An exhausted Robert turned away from the broken body of Rhaegar and looked for Ned, who was slowly getting to his feet, holding his head. The two made eye contact and smiled. Robert raised his hammer high into the sky so all his men could see._

“ _The battle is_ _ours!” Robert yelled._

_The men roared. Robert made his way over to Ned, holding his wounded arm._

“ _You okay, Ned?”_

_Ned nodded._

“ _I’ll be fine. You?”_

_Robert looked at his wounded arm. The gash was deep and oozing blood._

“ _I’ll survive.” Robert said._

“ _You need to get that taken care of.”_

“ _I’ll be fine.” Robert said._

“ _You need to rest.”_

“ _Rest? Don’t you see Ned? This is it! We need to ride to King’s Landing!”_

“ _You’re in no shape to fight.” Ned said._

_Robert rolled his eyes and sighed._

“ _Fine. You take the men and ride for King’s Landing as fast as you can.” Robert said as he placed his uninjured hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Keep the Iron Throne warm for me.”_

_Ned smiled and nodded._

Ned sat at his desk in the Red Keep. He was supposed to be looking over notes presented to him after his first small council meeting earlier in the day, but found himself distracted. This was the first time he’d been back in the capital since he encountered Jaime Lannister on the throne.

“So much death.” Ned said.

It had been almost twenty years since that day, but Ned could remember every single second of that battle, all the screaming, all the blood shed. The smell of death and shit. Sometimes Ned wondered if it was worth it.

But then he thought of his children and wondered what kind of world they would be living in if the Mad King had continued to rule. Only the Gods know what that man was truly capable of.

But as his thoughts turned to his children, new worried grew. This was the first time his girls had been anywhere other than Winterfell, and King’s Landing was a dangerous place. He had put some of his best retainers on guard, but he was still concerned for them.

He remembered what had happened to Elia Martell and her children at the hands of the Mountain.

Ned picked up a piece of paper and began to read it, but quickly gave up. His mind was else where. He began to look around the desk that was previously Jon Arryn’s.

Jon Arryn. The man who was a like a father to him, gone. Ned couldn’t even remember the last thing he’d said to the man.

Ned rummaged through the drawers, finding old notes, orders, broken quills. Mostly junk. But then he found something he didn’t expect. At the very back of one of the drawers, was a small hole, no large than a pin. He fingered around the edges of the hole trying to find a way to pry it open, but found nothing.

He gave up and began to look for something to fit into the pin hole, finally deciding on whittling down a quill until it was small enough to fit. He reached in and inserted the quill into the hole until he felt a click.

A hidden compartment popped open under the desk. Ned pulled it out and placed it on the desk. Inside was a small hand written notebook, no doubt written by Jon Arryn. Sure enough, when Ned opened the book, he came face to face with the man’s handwriting. Ned smiled as he began to read the book.

At first, it all just seemed innocuous. Facts and figures about the treasury from Lord Baelish, small pieces of intelligence from Lord Varys, but then he got to a part of the book that made his stomach turn.

It was notes on the King’s children. Notes that implied that they were not his children, but the children of an incestuous relationship between Cersei and Jaime Lannister. Ned closed the book carefully after reading every single page and returned it to its hidden compartment. He tossed the quill and its shavings into the fire, destroying any evidence of his discovery.

He sat at his desk with his head in his hands. Things had just become dangerous, not just for him, but for his entire family.


	17. Plot

Bran was nervous. His foot was tapping incessantly as we waited out in the cold with the rest of the family. Robb put a hand on Bran’s shoulder.

“Calm down, Bran. It’ll be fine.”

Bran nodded his head, but didn’t say a word. He just stared ahead waiting to meet his fate, because that was the day that he would finally meet Lyanna Mormont. A few moments later, a handful of riders came riding towards Winterfell.

“That must be them.” Robb said.

Bran’s eyes passed from one rider to another, trying to identify which was Lyanna. He’d expected her to ride in a carriage, but based on the things he’d heard about her, he should’ve known better. That’s not her style.

Finally his eyes settles on a short girl with long black hair and a stoic, yet beautiful face. He felt his heart quicken in his chest as they got closer. A man helped Lyanna down from her horse and she gave the horse a quick pet on the back as it was led away to the stables. She turned to the Starks.

“Lady Lyanna, welcome to Winterfell.” Robb said.

Lyanna didn’t respond. All she did was look up at the castle. After a moment she returned her eyes to Robb.

“You must be Robb Stark.”

“Yes, my Lady. I’m Lord of Winterfell while my father is in King’s Landing.”

“I heard he was made Hand of the King.” She said.

Robb nodded.

“Poor man.” She said.

Bran had to stifle a laugh, causing Lyanna to turn to him.

“You must be Bran.” She said as she approached him.

“Yes, my Lady.” Bran said nervously.

“Don’t call me that. I hate that. Call my Lyanna.” She said.

“Lyanna.” Bran said. He liked the way the words sounded in his mouth.

They stared awkwardly at each other for a moment before Lyanna spoke up.

“So are we just going stay out here or are we going to go inside? I’m starving.” Lyanna said.

“Right this way.” Robb said.

***

Bronn followed the Westerner all the way from Braavos to an inn in a small village 20 miles outside of Pentos. When Bronn entered the inn, the Westerner motioned for him to sit with him. For a moment, Bronn’s blood ran cold. He’d been made.

He cautiously made his way to the table, one hand on a hidden dagger and took a seat.

“You’ve been following me for a while.” The Westerner said.

“I have.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

Bronn nodded as the Westerner called over a barmaid, who left behind two mugs.

“You’re working for the imp, aren’t you?” The Westerner said as Bronn took a deep swig of his beer. Bronn refused to answer.

“You don’t need to answer. I’m sure of it.” The Westerner took a sip. “Don’t be so nervous. I have an offer for you and the imp.”

“I’m not nervous.”

“Whatever you say.” The Westerner said.

A moment passed before Bronn spoke.

“So. What’s the offer?”

***

Sansa spent her day as she had spent the past few: exploring the Red Keep. She had to admit the palace was beautiful, but she missed home more than ever. But most importantly, she missed Jon more than ever.

She was the only thing on her mind when she opened a door and accidentally stepped into Princess Myrcella’s bedroom, where she was brushing her hair. Sansa jumped when she saw her and immediately curtsied when Myrcella turned her head.

“I’m sorry, your highness.” Sansa said, blushing.

Myrcella smiled and put her brush down.

“It’s no problem, Lady Sansa. Please, come in.”

Sansa did as she was told and sat with Myrcella.

“How are you liking King’s Landing?” Myrcella asked.

“It’s beautiful, but I have to admit I miss home.” Sansa said.

“I imagine. You seem to have a great family.” Myrcella said.

“Thank you.”

An awkward moment passed before Myrcella started to blush and spoke.

“So… what can you tell me about the Greyjoy boy?”

“Theon? What do you want to know about him?” Sansa asked.

Sansa was surprised to hear the princess ask about him.

“Well, he can be a jerk sometimes, but he’s okay, I guess. I don’t really talk to him much.”

“Oh.” Myrcella said, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. She wanted to learn as much as possible about Theon.

“Are...are you interested in him?”

Myrcella’s eyes briefly went wide and she averted her gaze from Sansa. She then shook her head.

“It doesn’t matter. Father would never allow it.” She said.

Sansa thinks for a moment.

“I...I could talk to my father about it. Maybe he could talk to the King.” Sansa said.

“You’d do that for me?”

Sansa nodded her head as Myrcella smiled.

***

A meeting of the small council had just ended and Ned was heading back to his chambers when Varys approached.

“You look concerned, Lord Stark.” He said.

“Being the Hand is more work than I expected.” Ned said.

Ned hoped that Varys would buy the lie and not dig deeper, but he wasn’t that lucky.

“Are you sure that’s what has you so concerned? Is it not the fact that the King has no legitimate children?”

Ned did his best to hide his shock. Of course Varys would know. He knows just about everything that goes on inside King’s Landing. Ned didn’t know how to respond.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Ned said.

“I’m assuming you found Lord Arryn’s hidden notebook? The one in his desk?”

Ned took a deep breath.

“Indeed I have.” Ned said, finally admitting the truth.

“Good. I was hoping it wouldn’t take you too long.”

“How do you know of the book?”

“I helped Lord Arryn gather the information.”

“Why would you do that?”

“My only concern is that of the realm, and we both know that Joffrey is just a heartbeat away from the throne. I’m sure you’ve seen how unhealthy the King is.” Varys said.

“I have.”

“I think it is in everyone’s best interests to make sure Joffrey doesn’t get on the throne.”

“And how do you suggest we do that?”

“I have some ideas.” Varys said.


	18. Trust

When Sansa returned to her quarters from a day of hanging out with Myrcella, she found a note waiting for her on her desk.

It was from Joffrey.

He was asking her to meet him in the palace garden at midnight. Normally Sansa would’ve ignored the note, but the more she thought about it, the more she thought getting to know Joffrey might help her get over her inappropriate feelings for Jon. Finally, she made the decision to meet him that night.

***

Tyrion was in his quarters, reading a book and nursing a glass of wine when a knock came at the door.

“Come in.” Tyrion said, not taking his eyes off of the book.

Baelish entered and closed the door behind himself.

“Ah. Lord Baelish.” Tyrion said as he closed his book and got to his feet.

“Lord Tyrion.” Baelish said.

“You sent the gold.”

“Indeed I did.”

“May I ask why?” Tyrion asked.

“I decided to play it safe. If I send the money and he kills the Targaryen girl, mission accomplished. If he buys the girl, marries her, and takes the Iron Throne, he’s going to remember me as the man who bankrolled everything.” Baelish said.

“You truly are a back stabbing cunt, aren’t you?” Tyrion said.

“I did tell you not to trust me. I’m sorry, Lord Tyrion.”

“No, I don’t think you are, Lord Baelish.” Tyrion said.

Tyrion sighed and shook his head before taking a sip of wine.

“I expected you to send the money, Lord Baelish.”

“You did?”

Tyrion nodded his head.

“You clearly didn’t think this plan through, did you, Petyr?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Baelish said.

Tyrion stepped toward Baelish with a smile on his face.

“If the Westerner buys the girl with the King’s money that _you_ sent him, who is the King going to blame?”

Baelish’s face dropped.

“He’ll have your head for it, Lord Baelish, but maybe I could be of assistance.” Tyrion said as he stepped away from Baelish and poured himself another glass of wine.

“How so?” Baelish said, trying to hide his nervousness.

“I need rather large sum of money, and you have connections with the Iron Bank.”

“What for?”

“That’s my business.” Tyrion said.

“And what do I get?” Baelish asked.

“I will talk to Ned Stark. He should be able to talk Robert down when he finds out.”

“How are you going to get Ned Stark to help me?” Baelish asked.

“I’ll appeal to his sense of honor. I’ll tell him that even though you sent the money to have her killed, you had it on good authority that he wouldn’t do it. I’ll tell him you were just trying to make a show of it for the King. For some reason it seems like Stark has a soft spot for the girl. She was just a child during the rebellion, after all.”

“That fine and all, but what are we going to do about the Westerner?” Baelish asked.

“Don’t worry about him. I’ll take care of it.”

***

At midnight that night, Sansa arrived at the palace gardens alone for her meeting with Joffrey. She spent some time walking through the beautiful grounds while she waited for him to show. As she explored the garden, she realized that the guards that were normally there were gone. She didn’t really think anything of it at the time.

“Lady Sansa.” Joffrey said with a wild smile on his face as he approached her from behind.

Sansa turned to face him and smiled.

“Your highness.” Sansa said as she curtsied.

“It’s good to see you.” Joffrey said as he stepped closer to Sansa.

Sansa quickly began to feel very uncomfortable with how close Joffrey was getting to her, not to mention the creepy smile on his face.

“What did you want to see me about?” Sansa asked.

Joffrey reached up and began to stroke Sansa’s cheek, sending her into an internal panic. This wasn’t right. She had to get out. She took a step back from Joffrey.

“Um, I’m sorry, your highness, but I should really…”

“Stay. You should really stay.” Joffrey said.

“No, I need to go. I need to leave.” Sansa said.

“I am the heir to the throne and I am ordering you to stay!” Joffrey said as he stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Stop!” Sansa yelled.

Joffrey pushed her up against a barrier in the garden and began to tear at Sansa’s dress.

“Please! Stop!”

He didn’t.


	19. The Living Dead

“Where the hell is he?” Viserys said as he paced back in forth in front of Illyrio and Dany.

“He’ll be here, Your Grace. Patience.” Illyrio said.

“Patience? Patience? I am a King, Illyrio! I don’t wait for anything!”

“Please, brother. Just be calm.” Dany said.

Viserys turned and glared at her. Dany took a couple step backs from him, scared of waking the dragon once again. She was still nursing some yellowing bruises from the last time.

Before Viserys could turn his anger on his sister, a man entered the room.

“They’re here, Master Illyrio.” The man said.

“Good. Send them in.” Illyrio said as he turned Viserys. He smiled. “Patience.”

Viserys glared at Illyrio as Jorah Mormont and the Westerner entered the room, with Illyrio’s servant closing the door behind them. Dany looked up at the cloaked figure of the Westerner and felt her blood run cold. There was something very wrong about the man.

Despite the tense atmosphere in the room, Illyrio stepped forward and held out his hand to the Westerner.

“My name is Illyrio Mopatis.” He said before motioning to Viserys. “This is Viserys, of the House Targaryen, third of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.”

Jorah bowed while the Westerner stood straight. Viserys’ blood began to boil as the Westerner refused to bow.

“You’re supposed to bow.” Viserys said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t bow.” The Westerner said.

Illyrio spoke up before Viserys could really lose his temper and blow the deal they were about to make.

“I’m sure he means no offense, your Grace.” Illyrio said.

Viserys continued to stare at the cloaked figure of the Westerner, but said nothing more about the subject.

“This must be the famous Daenerys Targaryen.” The Westerner said as he motioned toward Dany.

Dany took a deep breath and took a step forward. She felt her skin crawl when the Westerner said her name.

“Step a little closer. I can’t see that well.” The Westerner said.

Dany was about to step forward when Illyrio stopped her. Even he was feeling something off about the man.

“May I ask who you are, sir? We’ve all introduced ourselves, after all.”

“Ah. My apologies.” The Westerner said.

He slowly lifted his hood off, revealing his heavily scarred face and pale skin. His empty eye socket filled with what appeared to be a hastily whittled wooden ball. Dany had to stifle a scream. Illyrio’s hand began to shake as he took a step back.

“You…” Illyrio said. “You’re dead.”

“Apparently not.” The Westerner said as he took a deep breath. “The next time you blow up someone’s ship, you should make sure they’re actually dead.”

“I...I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Viserys said through a shaky voice.

The Westerner turned his attention to Viserys.

“My name is Euron Greyjoy.”


End file.
